Wackos to Obliterate: Book Three (Chapter 15)

Once the ambulance left with Gerold, a patrol car pulled into the driveway. After a short discussion with Bill and Todd followed by a few words with Ryuji, the County Mounties seemed convinced it was best to question Ryuji in more detail.

“We know it appears to be nothing but an accident, but there’re a couple of discrepancies in the stories we need to check out,” the taller of the two deputies said to Ryuji as they stood by the patrol car parked next to George’s pickup.

“If you want to take me in for questioning, can’t I go back to my camper and pick up a few things?”

“If you promise not to leave the area, I see no reason you couldn’t just come by the Sheriff’s Office first thing tomorrow morning,” the deputy said.

Ryuji nodded his head, which was free from the hoodie. “I’ll be there at 9:00.”

“We’ll need statements from everyone who witnessed the shooting. You can either give those now or come by the station tomorrow as well,” the shorter deputy said, looking at the four men and Mavis standing in a circle on the sidewalk-like space between the front of the parked patrol car and the entrance of the shop.

Mavis looked at George. “You want to wait until morning or do it now?”

George nodded toward Ryuji standing next to the taller deputy. “Since he rode over with us and he’s got to drop by the station tomorrow morning, why don’t we wait?”

“What’re we going to do with the birds?”

“What do you think, Ryuji? You want to go back and dress the birds down since we still got a little sun left?” George asked, bringing Ryuji into their circle.

Ryuji walked a couple of steps closer to them. “That’s probably the best plan. How does that sound officers?”

The shorter officer looked at him. “When you arrive at the station, just give your name at the front desk and the officers on duty will handle it from there.”

“So, I’m free to go?” Ryuji asked just to make sure.

“Take care of your birds, sir,” he answered.

“For me, I think I’ll be happy to give my statement now. I’m a little too busy tomorrow,” Todd said.

“No problem, Mr. Green. We’ll get to it ASAP,” the taller deputy said, giving Todd a smile and a wink. “Same goes for the two of you?” he asked Bill and Rick.

On the drive back, George kept thinking about the wink the deputy gave Todd, but he did not want to mention it to Ryuji whom he figured did not see it since he had already turned and started to go back into the shop to retrieve the birds.

As George stopped the pickup in front of the camper, Ryuji said, “I’ll check on Malcolm and then bring the gear over for dressing the birds.”

“I’ll start making dinner; maybe Malcolm’ll be feeling better and can join us,” Mavis said as he opened the door.

“I’m sure he’s too under the weather for that, but thanks for the offer,” Ryuji said, climbing out of the cab.

George turned to face Ryuji. “You could just throw the buckets or whatever into the back if you want.”

“No, I’ll just bring them with me. This campground isn’t that big.”

Around nine that night, Mylo – the park’s manager – knocked on the front door of the fifth wheel. At first, they thought Ryuji had forgotten something; instead, Mylo told George that Todd was waiting in the park’s office and had something urgent to discuss.

“Tell him we’ll be there in a few minutes,” George said.

“No, he wants to meet with you alone,” Mylo explained.

“Why doesn’t he just come over here?” Mavis asked as George got ready to leave.

“You saw the wink the cop gave him at the shop, didn’t you?”

“It just so happens, I did see that.”

“Welcome to Centerville: a real nice place to …” he said as he left to meet with the behind-the-scene man.

As George walked up to the combined store/office of the campground manager, he hesitated a moment, but then remembered Mylo mentioned that Todd was waiting in the office. He was assaulted by a pine-scented air freshener as he entered this small room with a brown, wood-veneer reception counter to the left, while on the right Todd sat on a small sofa in front of a coffee table with two easy chairs on either side, holding the complimentary copy of the IndyStar newspaper Mylo had available for campers to read.

“That was quick; take a seat,” he said, folding the newspaper. “I was just looking over the rag that’s about the only paper left in all the small towns surrounding Indy. In our day, we had a pretty decent circulation, but now only major rags like this one can survive.”

“The 24/7 news cycle no doubt makes a paper copy seem out of date,” George said, sitting down.

“It’s true that by the time it’s printed and sent out, it’s no longer new. With constant updates online, it’s hard to compete.”

“I’ve got to make my rounds. The store’s closed, so you don’t need to worry about anyone in there,” Mylo announced as he walked through the small partition that separated the office from the store. He wore his usual khaki-colored store apron over his jeans and gray sweatshirt.

“We won’t take long, but I’ll wait for you to get back before I leave since I’ve got a few more things to go over with you,” Todd said as Mylo went outside.

Once they were alone, George sat back and smiled. “I had a feeling something like this would happen.”

“My, my, aren’t you the prescient one,” Todd said, grinning back. “So, what do you feel will happen next?”

“I’m not sure of the details, but I know you’ve probably added most of those to the statement you gave the deputy a couple of hours ago.”

“As an astroturfer, I think I know where you’ll stand, but Mavis may be another matter,” Todd said, but then stopped for a moment and drew himself a little closer to George’s chair; he looked carefully into the eyes of the man who reminded everyone of the cartoon spy who often pulled out bombs to blow up the Moose and Squirrel. “By any chance, you’re not wearing a wire, are you?”

“Huh?” George responded, believing Todd Green to be what Julian suspected: FBI or worse.

“Just a precaution, that’s all. By the way, you didn’t answer my question. I’ll repeat: you aren’t …”

“No, I’m not wearing a wire. What the fuck are you thinking?” George interrupted.

“I just need to make sure we’re on the same page here,” Todd said, sitting back and smiling.
I should ask him the same thing. Instead, George smiled back and said: “How’s Gerold doing?”

“He won’t lose the foot, but being hit with buckshot at such close range is bound to make a change in his jogging routine.”

“So, what are the few things we’ve got to discuss? You know Rick’s my supervisor. Shouldn’t he be in this discussion?”

“Oh com’on Boris, you know the way this works. I’m Mr. Big, okay? Rick is just the Fearless Leader,” Todd said, sitting back in the sofa and looking very relaxed.

George motioned as though he were giving Todd permission to talk. “Proceed.”

“This was an obvious revenge attack by the Jap toward forces he believes to be behind a hate campaign directed at him and all the other sick bastards out there like him. He seems convinced that Gerold is a homophobe hell bent on trying to stop the dangerous ‘rainbow world’ (to which he ascribes faggots, queers, and fucked-up people like those that make up the core of his band of losers) from destroying the moral fabric of this great country of ours. Of course, he had no evidence of that …”

“How about the duck picture posted on Jimmy’s SNS page?”

A look of confusion replaced composure on Todd’s face. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“I thought you knew everything, Mr. Big.”

“Cut the bullshit about that fucking cartoon. We don’t have much time before Mylo returns. What picture are you talking about?”

“As you heard this afternoon, Bill’s wife is related to Jimmy and he put his pictures of Ryuji and Malcolm on his page as a result of Bill requesting he wanted some pictures of Ryuji to add to the pictures he had of him on the wall in his shop,” George repeated what Patti had said earlier in the day. By Todd’s reaction, it appeared he was not aware Bill had posted a picture of ducks on Jimmy’s page that he had cropped from one he had taken of Ryuji holding ducks when he had been there the last time. George was unsure what to say next since Bill seemed so worried he was getting too much flak already for posting that picture.

“But what about the duck picture on the SNS page? What does it signify?”

“Well it shows someone who wrote a negative comment had known Ryuji likes to hunt ducks.”

“How's that evidence there’s a group out to destroy the Jap and his ilk? It just signifies to Ryuji that his experience at Bill’s could be related to the people who are bullying him. So, he lashes out like a madman at anyone his diseased mind feels is connected to his supposed torment. As a result, a complete innocent like Gerold gets caught in the crosshairs during his attempt to push back.”

“A half-blown-off foot is evidence of the insanity that has a grip on the mind of …”

“The mind of a drugged-crazed, homosexual, pedophile,” Todd said, completing the scenario he wanted George to follow.

“It sounds as though he should be locked up and have the key thrown away,” George said, amazed that the supposed “Mr. Big” did not know Bill had attached a picture to one of the comments he wrote on Jimmy’s page.

“Precisely,” Todd said, looking relaxed once again as he leaned back into the sofa and stretched out his legs. He started to get up as Mylo opened the front door.

As George walked back to the fifth wheel, he wondered if it were really possible Todd did not know about the cropped picture. There was no question it was evidence that someone who was connected to “DuckBill” (or at least had physically been there) was one of the tormentors on Jimmy’s SNS feed and so there was strong potential for an investigation to find links between it and members of Rick’s cohort. If Todd did not know that, Rick definitely did. After all, someone had been complaining to Bill about posting the picture; at least, that was what Bill was so concerned about the night before, wasn’t it?